relationship – Page 2 – POETRY FESTIVAL. Submit to site for FREE. Submit for actor performance. Submit poem to be made into film.

What My Parent’s Gave Me, Poetry by Ada Castle

My mother was born a cherry blossom.
full of little budding flowers with the scent of heaven swirling around her space.
The same way a tea light flickers in a power starved bedroom.
Her glow enchanting, inviting, promising warmth but watch out or she will burn you,
striking you with her heat so quickly you will not be able to get away before she consumes you body and soul.

Genre: Family, Love, Relationship

What My Parent’s Gave Me

by Ada Castle

My mother charmed the branches of many plants not just trees,
her magic crossed borders,
she loved and loves freely,
not in a closet or a box with a lid.
she taught me to love the same way.

No tree caught my mother’s eye more than my father’s rough bark and smooth cracks upon the strength of his oakness.
The glow of her seduction made his thick sprigs sway towards her and he drank her heavenly scent in,
the same way you may enjoy a drink of wine,
a fruity intoxication of natural liquid made by the hands of those created to press out golden juices of something already,
miraculous, grandiose, tart but slightly addictive the more you brush your lips against it.

When you see me in my large frame that my father passed on to me,
know that underneath my mother’s little budding flowers are planted inside the place most people are hollow.
I enjoy the surprise in your eyes when you thought you had destroyed me by peeling away my tough layers,
while I just swirled the scent of heaven all around you.

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The Resistance, Poetry by Tierra Martin

Why can’t I move? Being enclosed by your infidelity no air for me to breathe. Why won’t you just let me live!

Genre: Hurt, Pain, Relationship

The Resistance by Tierra Martin

Why can’t I move? Being enclosed by your infidelity no air for me to breathe. Why won’t you just let me live!
Being caught in your wrongs isn’t what I pictured our relationship to be. Not being able to be set free me falling damn on my knees in a searing plead. You took quit advantage of my kindness.

Therefore, me pushing away from all this hurt in the end would help me mend things on my own two feet. While my heart is beating defeating your indecisive mindset I’ll also be set free to fly away too a place where I can finally love me for me..

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HOW LONG IS FOREVER, Poetry by Eden P. Orbista

It is great to know the person I admired in my teens
Without him knowing that he was my first love way back then
After 43 years of being apart, our path crossed again
Here we are seemed that we’ve known each other since.

Genre: Relationship, Love, Rhyme

HOW LONG IS FOREVER by Eden P. Orbista

Frozen in time, amazing but, all i saw was YOU
The way you were clad in high school uniform,
Boy..Just like the first time i set my eyes on you
Hard to believe but, it is happening, it’s true.

Our candid moments when we’re on the phone
Took us to heights only you and I can fathom
Gosh! We laughed and kidded like teenagers do
Anything we discussed, we’re enlightened too.

I’ve kept you in my heart, there was always a room for you
I felt it that someday we’ve got to share this love, I knew
The love i have long waited for, now it is coming true
Now you’re here to keep this flame in my heart burning, anew.

All these years i consoled my heart, always
Of your thoughts and of forever
It’s scary though to think, …. Yes but, ……how long is forever?
My heart and my mind can’t grasp for the right answer
Now i know that no matter how long it takes,
True love is always worth the wait.

Deep in my heart, i knew this day will come
We’ll hold each other in passionate kiss, in tight embrace
When before my heart was filled with doubts and fears
Now my heart holds a promise and joy that forever is no longer….
Than a heartbeat away, …….a thread of breath to bear.

My first love is now a realization of my true love
Amazing but, this is how fate played on us
Not knowing where we were in the past forty three years,
Yet fate brought us together to stop the tears i shed all these years
The waiting and the longing has came to end, coz forever dictates…..
That no matter how long it takes, true love is always worth the w

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MESS, Poetry by Damilola K Fashola

Genre: Love, Relationship, Romance

MESS by Damilola K Fashola

I just want to run naked through your mind. Swim through your hair before sliding down your temple and finding a bench within your earlobe. Give me the nod and backwards I will fall into you. I will fall into you. Gooey Ozzy Messy you. Dirt first. Grit first. Torment first. In your vile mediterranean I will lay and get to know you. What they all ran away from I will make love to and we will fight our demons together… Lie to me. Lie with me. Lie in my arms. Let us become liars who lie together. Your a mess and I love it. I’m a mess to. Can we be friends? Can we be more than friends? Nah I’ll probably mess it up and we’d become a big mess like one of the pieces of my life lying on the floor you just walked over. I’m tryna tell you something. I’m tryna tell you something deeper than me. And already you’ve hurt my feelings and I’m here taking it more personal than I should. I’m becoming emotional. I’m being emotional. Sorry I get that way at times. Thats just the peak of my flaws and no its not because I have a vagina but I’m human just like you and though you’re taught not to be expressive about it… I no you feel. I know it hurts sometimes and you have no one to call on and sometimes you try to call out but your voice is lost under sniggers and suppressed thoughts of not being allowed to. Your allowed to. Around me you’re allowed to be you. Flaws and all. I promise not to use them against you. Though I’m blunter than your average. So I might… without knowing so and for that, I ask you to forgive me now. If we’re ever gonna work that is. Do you want us to work. Maybe we shouldn’t.. Your a mess, I’m a mess. two messes…

Can we make love happen?

From the Water, Poetry by Allison J. Call

Like many of you, I burrow seasonal trenches

Up and down and through,

Weaving my way through the ideology

That tomorrow’s winter will ever be colder than today’s.

I prefer a Sunday dance around a newspaper

And a misty cup beside my father’s silence,

Genre: Relationship, Family

From the Water by Allison J. Call

Like many of you, I burrow seasonal trenches

Up and down and through,

Weaving my way through the ideology

That tomorrow’s winter will ever be colder than today’s.

I prefer a Sunday dance around a newspaper

And a misty cup beside my father’s silence,

And I prefer the cold hands of a February morning

Tightening its delicate grip around

My most vulnerable.

I prefer all this, all this to what’s really.

My father counts one every year,

Because dawn is MY years old,

I control the seasons

And he couldn’t possibly die.

He is too wrong, too opposite of me.

Too set in his ways to let the ice grip him

As it grips me.

He’s too much my father to be a poet.

And he never told me that he was, and if he

NEVER told me he was, then

How can it be?

And outside, mint-mist fog ripples like a clock ticking

Wildly without a cog to push it

And without a hand to tell.

I come alone in the morning into the minty smoke

That has sky for veins.

I come alone on a Sunday

To count the drops of the lapping lake water

Or the warm, black metal tins along the edge of it.

In silence, war wears no coat and makes

No promises.

War’s tangled colors are the ticking fog, the water, the tins,

The newspaper dance, the warm coffee.

War is my father whom I cannot define

And of whom I come from without definition or border.

From the water I come virginal, frozen.

From the water I come a bastard, an orphan,

And alone.

I come from my father but I am not my father.

I am the water.

The morning light water.

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A Brief Encounter, Poetry by H. Alahmad

It was cloudy

And the thunder was rowdy

Suddenly an angel descended from heaven

And called me at eleven

Genre: Love, Rhyme, Romance

A Brief Encounter by H. Alahmad

It was cloudy

And the thunder was rowdy

Suddenly an angel descended from heaven

And called me at eleven

We met at a place of festivity

I felt I am outside the bounds of gravity

I wanted to fly

High in the sky

She said buy me a lollipop

And take me to a bookshop

If I liked books before

Today I adore them more than my Porsche four by four

Because they will testify that my encounter was real

Although it was surreal

My angel was gorgeous

Like a rose from Damascus

She has beautiful eyelashes

Those convert the heart into ashes

She was so white

And her teeth were so bright

Her voice was like music to my ears

But it brought to my eyes tears

When she said I have to go

It was like the end of the show

I wanted time to freeze

I kept saying please please please

But time had no mercy on me

And refused my plea

Time has a heart made of stone

And refused to give me a loan

All I wanted is one extra minute

But I was unfortunate

The books were crying

And words were dying

When she said bye

And ascended high

I wish I was shot

And buried on that spot

The books will be my coffin

And words will be my next of kin

It was a brief encounter

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CinDER, Poetry by Sheen Francis Reyes

And then you implode
Your toes curl
You bury your face in the pillow
Whispering I miss you
And his name over and over

Genre: Love, Romantic, Relationship

CinDER by Sheen Francis Reyes

https://sheenfrancisreyes.wordpress.com/2015/09/22/cinder/

And then you implode
Your toes curl
You bury your face in the pillow
Whispering I miss you
And his name over and over
Until your voice whimper
Your eyes fill up with tears
For the painful void in your chest reminds you
He’s not with you
You and your own skin are alone
All you have are the images inside your head
And the cinder he left you with
Which every cell in your body craves to burn

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Beautiful things, Poetry by NuBlaccSoUl

Till you can’t walk
Till you are sore,
Yet still smiling
from the thrilling experience,
Till you are sweating pleasure
from every pore.

Genre: Relationship, Love

Beautiful things by NuBlaccSoUl

Till you can’t walk
Till you are sore,
Yet still smiling
from the thrilling experience,
Till you are sweating pleasure
from every pore.
Till your breath murmurs
my first name with every inhale
Till my voice is the only sound
your ears want, need to hear.

i would
rest my head on your bosom
and listen
Enjoy the sweet tunes composed by
every noted word you harmonise

Tales of your life stories before they became entwined with mine
Narratives about your dreams
About who breaks your glassy heart
And what tickles your eye-ducts
into opening a flood of tears.

an inner world of wishes
she deserves beautiful things,
The Nubian Queen, Flower Child.

Facebook page: http://www.facebook.com/nublaccsoul
Twitter and instagram: @nublaccsoul
HP: hellopoetry.com/nublaccsoul
WP: nublaccsoul.wordpress.com
Tumblr: new-nublaccsoul.tumblr.com

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Waitress Serves A Hypocrite, Poetry by Christian S. Eskelund

Genre: Relationships, Abuse

–Waitress Serves A Hypocrite — by Christian S. Eskelund

Your pouty lips smack and smile so
Smugly
As you chew, open mouthed,
Your gum – communicating your cool.
Oh, you’re so easy to read…
Disconnected, unseeing:
Blind and blissfully so,
You walk your path of comfort,
Never asking or engaging, except in
The shallows –
That place of no real wonder,
Where it’s all so easy to see,
That all is measured by what is had
Or not had.
Anyone can tell that
You’ve got it so together,
The 4.0 G.P.A.,
The tidy little life with
Mom and Dad in the suburbs,
Where you grew so strong,
Unsullied and wise,
Your college education long ago
Bought and paid for –
Like your cool.
You’ll graduate next year
After you’ve learned
“Critical thinking.”
You’ll probably take a trip
To Europe soon,
Stay in “nice” middle-class hotels.
Become enlightened,
And romanced,
Look for and maybe find
The man
Who’ll always be strong,
Someone your parents
can be proud of,
Who’ll take care of
Everything
For you,
Afford you
And somehow
Always
Find the time to
Understand
The emptiness that is you.

And I, with my cynicism and sarcasm
Have judged you…
I have judged you as shallow, silly –
A fraud.

Because I do not know you,
I will never know:
Of the “games” your neighbor
Made you play
All those years ago.
How the tears finally dried up,
As you tried to forget
How your “lovers” never saw you – never knew your heart.
How they treated you just as the neighbor did, your uncle too,
And… your Dad.

How could I know:
That you don’t even know how to see yourself,
Your reasons for grasping at the glossies’ propaganda,
Why you let them decide
For you,
Why you came to see life as
Little more than a
Play act?

Yet I already have you pinned
To my specious
Opinion.

And could I know that my attitude
Is why,
Resoundingly why
No one
Will ever see the real you?
Because whoever that is,
or was is lost,
Gone forever.

And could I know how to stop and
See
That it is only because you were torn
So many times
That you are now
So dead inside
That someone else now
wears your skin
And goes to work each day and smiles?

Hard Hat Poet
(Christian S. Eskelund)
29 April 2012
Jacksonville, Florida

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My Estranged Wife, Poetry by Nnamdi Wabara

Janet’s mouth is too bitter!
Worse than bitter leaf soup,
prepared by impatient spinsters, who find it hard,
to recoup the love and care of older sisters.

Genre: Relationship, Rhyme, People
My Estranged Wife by Nnamdi Wabara

Janet’s mouth is too bitter!
Worse than bitter leaf soup,
prepared by impatient spinsters, who find it hard,
to recoup the love and care of older sisters.

Janet’s mouth is too bitter!
Worse than the dogonyaro leaf,
administered in times of illness. The fear of which cures
I believe, the young lad than its potency.

Janet’s mouth is too bitter!
That i wonder if it’s the same lips,
i kissed on that day, with so much relish.
Singles looking on, in their eyes a wish.

Oh, Janet’s mouth is far too bitter!
That to avoid the venom in her spittle;
I make my way, to lay in the chickens’ litter.
There, there’s peace at least a little.

Nnamdi Wabara 2002
http://www.newerthots.blogspot.com

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